The blackened antlers sat by the fire, casting jagged shadows that stretched long against the ground. No one spoke as the flames licked higher, their silence heavy as iron.
Borgu eventually broke it, chewing noisily on a strip of dried meat. "So," he said through his mouthful, "we fight one beast, win. Easy. Why everyone look like we lost?"
Kael's gaze didn't leave the fire. "Because that wasn't just a beast. That was the forest itself warning us."
Sylvara's lips pressed into a thin line. She had been staring at the antlers for hours, her arms folded tight, as if holding something inside. "He's right. The corruption in that creature… it wasn't natural. It was guided. Directed."
Lorian shifted uncomfortably on his log. "Directed? You mean someone—something—made it that way?"
Sylvara nodded, though her eyes remained on the antlers. "Corruption doesn't grow so focused on its own. It seeps, it spreads, but it doesn't shape unless something wills it."
Borgu barked a laugh, tossing the last of his meat into the fire. "Good. Then we just find whoever wills it and smash them!"
"No." Sylvara's voice cracked sharp enough to silence him. Her expression was uncharacteristically tight, her eyes gleaming in the firelight. "You can't smash what festers in roots and blood. If this is what I think it is, then we are standing at the edge of something far older than you, or me, or even him." She gestured toward Kael.
Kael finally lifted his gaze from the flames, meeting hers. "Older or not, if it's here, it's a threat. And threats don't go away just because we ignore them."
His words hung in the air, heavy with certainty.
Lorian swallowed hard. "So… what do we do?"
Kael leaned back, exhaling slowly. "We find out what's poisoning this forest. If we're going to live here, we need to know what we're dealing with."
Sylvara's brows furrowed, but she didn't argue. Instead, she rose, her cloak catching the firelight. "Then at first light, we scout deeper. But understand this—what you saw in that stag was only the beginning."
The next morning, the forest greeted them with an uneasy stillness. The usual chatter of birds was muted, and even the wind seemed reluctant to pass through the branches.
Kael led once again, his spear gripped firm in his hand. Behind him, Borgu trudged, eager and restless. Sylvara walked in silence, her eyes sharp, her bow ready. Lorian trailed at the rear, spear newly cut from a sturdy ash tree, his grip trembling only slightly.
As they moved, signs of corruption revealed themselves more clearly.
Leaves curled black at the edges. Bark split open to reveal sap that oozed like blood. Even the air felt heavier, each breath carrying the faint metallic tang of rot.
"This is worse than I feared," Sylvara murmured. She paused to touch a nearby tree, her fingers brushing its blackened veins. The bark crumbled under her hand, as if hollowed. "The corruption isn't just touching the beasts. It's spreading through the forest itself."
Borgu frowned, sniffing the air. "Smells like bad ale."
"Worse," Sylvara replied, straightening. "Ale won't choke the land dead."
Kael crouched low, motioning for silence. Ahead, the ground sloped downward into a shallow ravine. A stream cut through it, but its waters were dark, sluggish, carrying a foul stench. Dead fish bobbed against the rocks.
Lorian gagged, covering his mouth. "That's… gods, that's unnatural."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Follow the water. It may lead us to the source."
The ravine twisted deeper into the woods, the air growing thicker with each step. The trees leaned inward, their branches gnarled, as though straining to keep something contained.
It was Sylvara who stopped first. Her hand shot out, grabbing Kael's arm. "There."
Through the trees, half-hidden beneath roots and ivy, rose the outline of stone. At first it seemed like part of the cliffside, but as they drew closer, the shapes sharpened into structure: crumbled pillars, shattered walls, and the faint arch of a doorway long sealed by vines.
"Ruins," Kael muttered, his voice low.
"Older than ruins," Sylvara corrected, her tone wary. She stepped lightly toward the stone, her fingers brushing ancient carvings etched into its surface. "These markings… they're elven. But not my kind. Older. Much older."
Lorian frowned, squinting. "I thought elves lived in forests. Wouldn't ruins like this be normal for you?"
Sylvara shook her head, her expression grave. "This isn't a home. It's a warning."
She stepped aside, pointing at the carvings more clearly. They weren't elegant flourishes like the Silvergrove's scripts, but jagged, angular symbols, spiraling inward like a snare. Even Kael, untrained in runes, felt the unease that radiated from them.
"What does it say?" Kael asked.
Sylvara's lips tightened. "Bound. Beneath. Do not wake."
Borgu grinned, hefting his axe. "So something bound beneath us, eh? Sounds fun."
"Idiot," Sylvara hissed, whirling on him. "Do you have any idea what that means? Whatever lies beneath this place was dangerous enough that even the ancients—my ancestors—sealed it away. If this corruption is spreading, it's because that seal is weakening."
The group fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.
Lorian's hands clenched around his spear. "So what do we do? If it's weakening… can we fix it?"
Sylvara hesitated, her eyes flicking to the carvings again. "…Perhaps. But not without knowledge we don't yet have."
Kael studied the ruins, his jaw set. "Then our first task is to survive long enough to find out."
A sound broke the stillness.
Low. Guttural. Crawling up from beneath the earth itself.
The group froze, weapons raised.
From the streambed, where the blackened water pooled against the stone, bubbles rose. Then the surface broke—and something slithered free.
It was no beast Kael recognized. Its form was eel-like, long and slick, but its body sprouted spines of bone, and its mouth split into four, lined with rows of jagged teeth. Its eyes glowed the same faint red as the stag's.
"Spirits preserve us…" Sylvara whispered, her voice tight.
The creature screeched, the sound piercing, and launched forward.
Kael shoved Lorian aside, spear thrusting to catch its lunge. The point sank into its flesh, but instead of blood, black ichor oozed, sizzling against the wood. The creature writhed, snapping its jaws with unnatural speed.
Borgu roared, swinging his axe in a brutal downward arc. The blade cleaved part of the thing's spine, but even as its body split, its halves twitched, thrashing violently.
"Kill it!" Kael barked.
Sylvara loosed an arrow, the shot piercing its eye. The creature shrieked, the sound like shattering glass, before collapsing into the black water.
But even as it sank, the stream boiled, more shapes stirring beneath the surface.
"More coming," Lorian said, his voice tight with panic.
Kael's mind raced. "We can't hold here. Fall back—now!"
Borgu growled, clearly reluctant to leave a fight unfinished, but Kael's tone brooked no argument. They turned, retreating swiftly up the ravine, the sounds of hissing and screeching chasing them.
They didn't stop until the forest thinned and the air grew lighter. Only then did Kael allow them to rest, his chest heaving.
Sylvara leaned against a tree, her face pale. "It's worse than I feared. If creatures like that are crawling free, then the seal may already be broken."
Kael wiped black ichor from his spear, his expression grim. "Then whatever's beneath those ruins isn't just sleeping—it's waking."
Lorian sat heavily on the ground, his hands trembling. "How do we fight something like that?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. He looked at each of them in turn—Borgu, who was sharpening his axe with stubborn determination; Sylvara, whose eyes burned with old, ancestral fear; Lorian, shaken but unbroken.
At last, Kael spoke, his voice steady, though heavy. "We don't fight it. Not yet. For now, we prepare. Because whatever's coming… it will find us whether we're ready or not."
That night, the fire burned low. None of them slept easily. The black antlers loomed, but now they were joined by darker thoughts—the memory of glowing red eyes in the water, the runes whispering of what lay bound beneath.
The forest had shown its shadow. And shadows, Kael knew, never came without the promise of night.